s,
but nobody could guess what it was. She was quieter than her wont, and
was given to long, silent reveries, which had not been usual with her.

Filomena, who was of a lively turn of mind, declared that life at
Whitehall was becoming absolutely intolerable, and that she should be
thankful to go to Oakham, for at least it would be something new.

"Thou wilt be thankful to come away again," said Mistress Underdone,
with a smile.

They reached Oakham about the middle of July, and found Heliet, leaning
on her crutches, ready to welcome them with smiles in the hall. No news
had reached her of their proceedings, and there was a great deal to tell
her; but Heliet and the baby took to one another in an instant, as if by
some unseen magical force.

The item of news which most concerned herself was not told to Heliet
that night. The next morning, when all were seated at work, and baby
Rose, in Heliet's lap, was contentedly sucking her very small thumb,
Mistress Underdone said rather suddenly, "We have not told thee all,
Heliet."

"I dare say not," replied Heliet, brightly. "You must have all done a
great deal more in these two years than you have told me."

"Well, lass, 'tis somewhat I never looked I should have to tell thee.
There's somebody wants to wed thee."

"Me!" cried Heliet, in large capitals.

"Ay, thee--crutches and all," said her mother laughing. "He said he did
not care for thy crutches so they carried thee safe to chapel; and he
ran the risk of offending the Lady to get thee. So I reckon he sets
some store by thee, lass."

"Who is it?" said Heliet, in a low voice, while a bright red spot burned
in each cheek.

"Ademar de Gernet." Two or three voices told her. The bright spots
burned deeper.

"Is it to be?" was the next question.

"Ay, the Lady said so much; and I reckon she shall give thee thy gear."

"God has been very good to me," said Heliet, softly, rocking little Rose
gently to and fro. "But I never thought He meant to give me _that_!"

Clarice looked up, and saw a depth of happy love in the lame girl's
eyes, which made her sigh for herself. Then, looking further, she
perceived a depth of black hate in those of Felicia de Fay, which made
her tremble for Heliet.

It appeared very shortly that the Countess was in a hurry to get the
wedding over. Perhaps she was weary of weddings in her household, for
she did not seem to be in a good temper about this. She always thought
Heliet woul